


Medication

by vixalicious



Series: Ours Trilogy [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, lotrips
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-27
Updated: 2004-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-07 19:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vixalicious/pseuds/vixalicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Series:  Part 2/3 of my Ours trilogy, completely unrelated to part 1 by plot.<br/>Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit, no truth.<br/>Warnings:  Drug use.  Attempted angst.  Oh, and Orlando’s really mean.  Really.<br/>A/N: Title and lyrics belong to Ours.  Any inaccuracies in the description of drug use are mine.  As stated above, Orlando’s not a very nice person in this one.  Don’t kill me – I don’t really think this is Orlando’s true character in any way, shape, or form.  Thanks to shrinetolust for her fantastic beta skills!</p><p>PLEASE DO NOT:  repost this story anywhere (links are fine, recs are fantastic, reposting is bad), mention it on any non-fandom site such as (but not limited to) Goodreads, or read/share any excerpt from it in any public forum (radio, television, convention, etc) without the express written permission from the author.  Thank you!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Medication

**Author's Note:**

> Series: Part 2/3 of my Ours trilogy, completely unrelated to part 1 by plot.  
> Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit, no truth.  
> Warnings: Drug use. Attempted angst. Oh, and Orlando’s really mean. Really.  
> A/N: Title and lyrics belong to Ours. Any inaccuracies in the description of drug use are mine. As stated above, Orlando’s not a very nice person in this one. Don’t kill me – I don’t really think this is Orlando’s true character in any way, shape, or form. Thanks to shrinetolust for her fantastic beta skills!
> 
> PLEASE DO NOT: repost this story anywhere (links are fine, recs are fantastic, reposting is bad), mention it on any non-fandom site such as (but not limited to) Goodreads, or read/share any excerpt from it in any public forum (radio, television, convention, etc) without the express written permission from the author. Thank you!

Elijah stared across the darkened shoreline. He hadn’t wanted to come tonight, had wanted instead to spend the evening listening to the newest CDs he’d bought and playing with the curry recipe he’d downloaded off the internet. He’d wanted to surround himself with the things that brought him the most comfort, a small child curling up in a security blanket of music and cooking. Maybe it would help him to make sense of yesterday’s events.

__**Wake me up wise by morning  
I want to breathe the day  
This is my final warning  
Keep all the clouds away**

He’d managed to avoid the whole gang all day. They’d rung early in the morning to say they were going surfing, and Lij had breathed a sigh of relief. It was easy enough to beg off, to say he needed a lie-in. After all, it was a day without Feet, a day without filming, and the weight of the One Ring rested on his shoulders. He’d taken some ribbing about getting his beauty sleep, but that was fine. But when the surfing party had turned into a bonfire party in the early hours of the evening, his mobile phone had begun to ring non-stop and the excuses had started to wear thin. 

In the end, it had been Astin who convinced him to come. He and Christine were going, he’d said, and they’d love to see him there. Elijah found he couldn’t refuse his friend, who did so much for him. So he’d found his swim trunks, shrugged into a reasonably clean shirt, and driven to the beach, despite the dread curdling in his stomach. 

Even now, he couldn’t believe he’d done it. Ruined it. Ruined everything. He wanted to curl inside himself until he became invisible. He wanted the pain, the rejection, to disappear.

He smiled and greeted all the partygoers. Some were cast, some were crew, some were locals who’d happened upon the festivities and been invited to stay. If any of his friends noticed the slightly mechanical air to his charm, the shadows under his eyes, they were kind enough not to enquire as to the cause. 

He had taken a seat next to Sean and his wife. They were joined by Viggo, who tousled Lij’s hair as he sat down. Lij thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy in those intelligent eyes, and wondered in horror if Viggo knew. Viggo shared Orli’s trailer. He could have heard, he could have seen.

Elijah tried to clamp down the terror that raced through him. The humiliation was bad enough, but to have _witnesses_ to it! Feeling physically ill at the thought, he mumbled his excuses to the group as he staggered to his feet and stumbled into the comforting darkness.

Away from the high-spirits of the group, he sank down onto a large piece of driftwood. He watched the revelry from a distance, the proximity of everyone he knew on the island only making him feel more alone. Someone had brought a stereo and Dom and Billy were dragging people up to dance around the fire in mock pagan rituals.

Lij watched as they pulled Orli to his feet. Orli being Orli, he was a good sport about being pulled into the silly dance. He added an Egyptian flair to his movements as Billy and Dom fell about, nearly pissing themselves with laughter. 

In the firelight, with his wetsuit unzipped and removed to the waist, Orlando looked like a sun-kissed god. Ra, come to the realm of the living.

Elijah wanted to bang his own head against the rocks on the shore until his brains flowed out his ears. This stupid, thirteen-year-old-girl crush had to stop. The day-old image of Orli’s face flickered into his head like an embarrassing home movie.

* * *

When Elijah walked up to the trailer door, he was full of single-minded purpose. That day marked one full week since he’d succumbed to the teasing, tempting flirting and let Orlando take him home from the club. Let Orlando take him home from the club and do all manner of unspeakable things to him. Let Orlando take him home from the club and do all manner of unspeakable things to him that he wanted done to him again. He hadn’t the luxury of blaming it on alcohol… he hadn’t been that drunk. And in all honesty, he’d wanted to go as much as he’d known he shouldn’t go. He had felt a pull toward the beautiful Brit since the first day. Part of it had been the angelic looks, part of it had been the exuberant confidence. _And part of it_ , added the voice in his head, ever-increasingly Gollum-like in its appearances these days, _had been a case of Anglophilia, a desire for all things British._ Ignoring the nagging of his conscience, he squared his shoulders and reached for the door handle. He was determined to find out if Orli felt what he felt, if the moment they’d shared had held the same meaning for Orli as it had for him.

Wig off, but still wearing the Elven ears with his Mohawk, Orlando flashed a smile at Lij’s reflection in his dressing room mirror as he walked through the trailer door. 

“You alone?” Lij heard the tremble in his own voice, and cursed inwardly. He wanted to be strong and sure for this conversation. 

“Yeah,” Orlando looked him straight in the eye. “You hard?”

“Um…” That was not the direction Lij meant to go in. But the way Orlando said those words, making the ‘r’ disappear, made the crude statement sound posh. He felt himself stiffening with desire. Accents had always hit him below the belt. “Well, yeah, but…”

Orli spun around in his chair and rose from it in one fluid movement. He had Elijah pinned against the wall of the trailer before he could blink.

“I’ve been thinking all day,” Orlando breathed into his ear. “About the things I want to do to you.”

Nimble fingers undid the buttons of Elijah’s shirt as Orlando ran his tongue over the sensitive ridge of his ear. In seconds, the shirt was off and Orlando’s hands began roaming over pale flesh. They landed on Lij’s nipples and gave a hard squeeze. 

Elijah gasped as the sweet pain coursed through his body and centered in his cock. He arched against Orli, pressing arousal against arousal in an effort to ease the ache. 

Orlando shoved him back against the wall, so hard that Elijah’s breath left him. He began licking and biting his way down Elijah’s chest. His tongue snaked into Lij’s navel, and Elijah shut his eyes and leaned against the wall as he felt his knees go weak. 

He opened them again at the feel of the button fly of his jeans being ripped open. Orlando was kneeling now as he enveloped Elijah’s length. Rational thought flew away from Elijah’s mind as Orli’s mouth and hands fought a furious race to bring him pleasure. 

Nearly there, he couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped his throat when Orli took his mouth away. Orlando stood and pushed Elijah toward the couch a few feet away. Elijah stumbled over the jeans wrapped around his knees, still bereft from the unexpected end to the oral pleasuring, and landed on all fours on the couch. He started to turn, to lie down on the sofa facing Orlando, when a command stopped him cold.

“Don’t move.”

He stayed there in the prone position, feeling incredibly vulnerable. He thought he could feel Orli’s gaze burning a trail up his spine. He felt his body flush. And then a single, damp finger traced the hills and hollows of his vertebrae, dipped along the small of his back. He felt every hair on his body stand at attention as the touch sent shivers of electric desire through him. 

The caress continued, along the cleft of his cheeks, through his thighs to grasp his penis. Orlando began sliding his lubed hand along Elijah’s cock. Elijah gave himself over to the building ecstasy. 

“Ohhhhhh... AHHHHHHHH!” his moan turned into a yelp as even white teeth sunk into the soft skin of his left cheek. Orli released his hold on Elijah’s throbbing erection. “What the… gunhh….”

The sting of the bite mixed with the swift invasion of Orli’s shaft as he buried himself entirely in one stroke. The deft hand snaked around the outside of his hip to continue pleasing Lij, as Orli began to move in and out, first slowly, and then building speed as Elijah cried out his release and fell forward, resting his forehead on his arms in a nearly genuflecting pose. 

Orli began pounding into him again and again. Elijah basked in the range of groans and moans of his lover as Orlando spent his passion with one final stroke. Orli collapsed forward with a final shout, then slid his sweat-slickened body behind Elijah’s, turning him until both men lay spooned on the sofa.

“Orlando?”

“Mmm,” Orlando’s voice rumbled in his ear.

“What are we doing here?”

“Well…” A big pause, and the new, guarded note in his tone, gave Elijah a hint as to the direction that this was going to go. “It seems we’re fucking each other into the ground. Why? What do you want us to be doing?”

Elijah knew he should just say it, felt this would be his only chance. He should be brave, courageous, and put his love on the line.

“No, that’s what I thought, too. Just wanted to be sure we were on the same page,” he almost kept his voice from shaking. Maybe Orlando didn’t notice.

He sat up, and began to get dressed. He cursed himself for his cowardice as he walked toward the door. He tried to put on a mask of indifference as he turned to toss a nonchalant farewell over his shoulder.

He saw the realization cross Orlando’s face, followed by concern, and what he thought might be a tinge of disgust. A sudden rage billowed through him like bile, and loosened his tongue. “So this is just a cheap fuck for you?”

“I didn’t say cheap,” Orli tucked his knees up under his arms in a display of unconcerned nudity. “I’m just not looking for happily ever after. Are you?”

“And if I am?”

“Well, you’re not going to get it from me,” Orlando returned brusquely. “I like you, Lij, and I love you as a friend. This is separate for me, always. It’s just sex. Nothing more.”

Elijah felt it start, a tidal wave of sorrow rising from the pit of his stomach until it began to flow out of his eyes. Humiliated by this last weakness in front of the man who wouldn’t love him, he ran out the door.

* * *

He realized later, when he was alone in his room, that Orli hadn’t once kissed him. Hadn’t kissed him the other time either. Maybe if he’d noticed, he would have taken that as portentous, and not started the conversation. Hindsight, and all that, he thought with a sigh.

_**We've taken, medication  
So we can run away from  
Another day** _

A dark shadow moved toward him from the beach. He nearly screamed until he realized it was Karl.

“Hey, mate, what’s wrong? You look like you lost your best friend.”

Lij realized that tears were cascading down his cheeks unchecked. He must look a mess. Wiping the tears off his face with both hands, he offered the one unimpeachable excuse. “Ah, just a little homesick, I guess. What’re you doing wandering on the beach?”

“Ah, just ‘aving a bit of smoke, away from the maddening crowd. You want a hit?” He offered the joint.

“Nah, thanks,” Lij answered tonelessly. 

“Man, you’re really down. Maybe I can help lift your blues.” Karl rummaged through his pockets and came up with a baggie. He dumped the contents into his palm and offered Elijah his choice. 

Elijah thought about it for a second. He might have been young, but he’d grown up in Hollywood, surrounded by people who were beyond the definition of experimental. He’d gone down the chemical path a time or two, and found the loss of control not to his liking. He’d watched what the drugs had done to friends, and particularly to former child-stars, vowing not to take that direction. But tonight the blade of pain was too sharp, and alcohol had not served to dull it. Maybe this would take the edge off. He took a tab of ecstasy from Karl’s proffered hand. Karl clapped him on the back as he ingested it, and Lij smiled.

“That’s better, mate,” Karl grinned. “You were looking way too serious for a party. Just remember to keep drinking water. This stuff dehydrates the hell outta ya.”

Elijah hugged him in thanks, and rejoined the group. He finished the beer he’d been drinking, and grabbed a bottled water for good measure. Fifteen minutes later, he felt the first sweet strains of pharmaceutically-faked joy hit his bloodstream. The pain was still there, but he found he couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t stop his thoughts from buzzing. 

He couldn’t sit still. Energy ran through him like a thousand volts of electricity. He could hear the blood running through his veins, slickly sliding at the speed of light. 

He bounced onto Bean’s lap, enjoying the older man’s shock as he chuckled at a silly joke Liv was telling. He moved to her next, petting her long, soft hair as she laughed at his antics. He couldn’t stop touching people. At every contact, his skin prickled with the heat. 

He could feel, gloriously _feel_ , every part of his being, the ends of his hair, the scratch of his clothes, the feel of air over his knuckles as Dom and Billy dragged him out to dance. The warmth of the January night seduced his senses as he gyrated to the hard beat of the music playing from the portable stereo.

__**I feel alive, I'm falling  
We dance until the morning closed our eyes  
I would love to stay here and never have to go  
And no one in the world would ever know**

Orlando was dancing, too. Dancing closer and closer. Elijah wondered whether it was firelight or lust that put the wicked spark in the dark depths of those eyes. Grasping Lij by the wrist, he spun him around and tucked him under his arm. Laughing, he tamed Elijah’s movements to match his own. Lij thought he could almost see his nerve endings jump up and abandon their normal positions as they scurried to the exact spot where Orlando’s erection pressed against his back, focusing solely on the heat radiating from his sun-god. Grind-sway-grind, the rhythm consumed Elijah’s thoughts as Orli leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“Wanna shag, love?”

As pick up lines go, it wasn’t the most original. The part of Elijah’s brain that was separate from the drug tried to send caution signals to the rest of him, like a lighthouse beaming warnings on a fog-filled night, but the plea failed to penetrate whatever portion of his mind that had taken control. That part only cared about the moment, the touch, and the heat. He nodded his assent.

“Wait a minute, then follow me to the changing house, the one just down the beach.”

Orlando let him go then, and he nearly stumbled. Bereft at the loss of warmth, he shivered once as he watched Orlando disappear into the darkness.

He waited until the song finished, and then followed. Sand rubbed his ankles as he made his way down the path to the beach house. There, in the bluish fluorescent light, leaning against a wall, was Orlando. Indolence, lust, and a beauty that edged over into harshness, Elijah thought. Without saying a word, Orlando grabbed the waistband of Lij’s shorts and pulled him toward the door.

He followed Orlando’s shadowy form through the darkness of the outer changing room, into the loo. The thought hit him absurdly: all beach bathrooms are alike, regardless of country or culture. The smell of mildew pervaded the structure. Sand had taken up residence in the corners of the room, and crunched under his feet as he walked on the cold tile floor. Moonlight from the sole window lent an eerie glow to the row of porcelain fixed on one wall. Elijah walked over to the window, turning his back to Orlando. The windowsill came up to his underarms, the perfect height to lean on, so he did, staring out at the sand and the inky black ocean. He could feel the weight of Orlando’s stare, knew he was supposed to make the next move in this bizarre dance, but couldn’t make himself turn away to face him.

A hand pulling on his shoulder forced the decision, and Elijah found himself staring into those dark eyes, inscrutable even with the pale lunar light hitting them. 

“What do you want? I want to give you what you want.”

“You never kiss me.”

“Really?” Orli looked at him for a moment. Then he bent down and pressed his lips to the pulse point under Lij’s jaw.

“No, I mean you never really kiss me,” the voice in his head contemptuously whispered that he was begging, but he felt too much in the moment to be concerned with pride.

Orlando made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh. A snaugh. “You’re such a girl sometimes.”

The insult was delivered with such warmth that he couldn’t take offense. Especially since it was followed with a kiss, a real one this time. Elijah closed his eyes and concentrated fully on the sensation: the first soft pressure, the parting of lips, the penetration, the taste of Orli on his tongue.

The kiss deepened, Orlando making more and more forceful forays into the cavern of Elijah’s mouth. Tongues swirling, in and out, teeth biting down on full lips, the contact quickly moved past mere kissing to oral fucking. It was brutal and bruising and Elijah wanted more. He ground up against Orlando, hip to hip, as he wondered if he could use the heat they were generating to fuse them together forever, make them one interlocking person. 

Orlando tore his lips off Elijah’s, leaving him gasping. “I kissed you. Now you kiss me.” A downward push on the shoulder left no doubt as to Orlando’s meaning. Elijah licked his way down the lean chest, settling on his knees as he pulled the wetsuit lower.

He licked his kiss-swollen lips once, then slid them over and down. Orlando threaded his fingers through Elijah’s short hair as he pushed deeper into Elijah’s mouth. Elijah moaned as Orlando thrust into him over and over and he slid his hand under the waistband of his swim trunks, stroking himself to the rhythm his lover had set.

Abruptly, Elijah found himself with an empty mouth as Orlando pulled out, leaving a trail of saliva connecting them. He felt the sharp pain as Orlando pulled him to his feet by means of his hair and pushed him toward the window. The air hit him colder than it should as Orlando yanked his swim trunks down to his knees.

With only saliva for lubrication, Elijah winced at the sizzling pain as Orlando pushed into him. He tightened his grip on the window ledge as Orli thrust into him again and again, faster, harder, slicker. He watched waves crash against the shore, and the pounding of the ocean swirled into the thrumming of Elijah’s pulse. Swept away, he cried out as he found his release. 

He watched the spatter of his own semen begin a slow slide down the wall as Orlando pulled out and stepped to the sink to rinse off.

“We’re ok, aren’t we?” Orlando swept a look from underneath his thick lashes as he adjusted his wetsuit. “You’re not still upset?”

“No, we’re fine,” Elijah was still trying to bring his mind back down from the swirling stratosphere as he pulled his shorts back on. Orlando gave him a half-smile and kissed him on the back of the neck before walking out of the room.

As he stood in front of the washroom mirror, Elijah tried to force the corners of his mouth down, but they just kept curling back up. He literally could not stop smiling. Laughing to himself, he thought, “So this is it. This is love.”

His reflection beamed back at him. Cheeks, flushed with exertion; hair, sticking up in a fashion that could have only been created by the grip of a lover; lips, swollen and red from the punishing force of Orlando’s kisses.

He looked well used.

 _He didn’t say he loved you,_ the internal voice was back, dimming the wattage of his smile.

He kissed me.

 _Kissing isn’t love._

It’s a start.

_Is it? Do you really believe that?_

He pushed the thoughts away as he made one final attempt to fix his hair. Then he walked out of the building.

_**We've taken, medication  
So we can run away from  
Another day** _

He walked slowly back down the beach. There was a trail of footsteps, and he followed them carefully, knowing they were Orli’s prints, wanting to hold on to any connection he could find.

He could make Orli fall in love, he thought. Surely it was just a matter of time. He already cared. Surely that was one step away from love.

Rounding the bend of the path that led back to the fire, he heard the exchange before he witnessed the players.

A female voice with a thick Aussie accent floated on the wind. “Where’d you run off ta, love?”

Orlando’s response was muffled, but from the peal of girlish laughter, Elijah could only assume he hadn’t mentioned a quick fuck in the men’s room.

He rounded the corner, still unnoticed in the dark night. He watched as Orlando turned on the charm, running a hand down her arm, tucking windblown hair behind her ear. It was an Actor’s Studio course in body language and flirting, and the girl was buying the act. At the exactly perfect cinematic moment, Orlando leaned over and kissed the girl.

Elijah felt all the heat seep out of his body as the truth hit him. He thought of the charming façades that Orlando presented to the world, the goofy, exuberant kid; the passionate lover; the good mate. They were just roles, played by Orli to gauge the reactions of his audience. Whatever was going on behind that shell, if there was anything, was something Elijah would never get to see. 

__**We will never, never know, never know  
I feel the dream is real, watch it go, go  
I blink and then another day is gone  
I feel the dream that we've been hiding from**

He watched the girl return Orlando’s embrace. Betrayal tasted like copper in his mouth. He knew what would happen next. Orlando would take her home. He would figure out with his chameleon ways which version of himself she needed, and that’s what he would become. Just like he had with Elijah. And he would take her that way, whether she needed the romantic or the rough stuff, as often as he could. Just like he had with Elijah. The sex would burn between them, until she needed more, until she needed the one emotion he hadn’t yet learned to fake, and then he would douse the flames and walk away. 

Just like he would with Elijah.

Elijah looked back at the light from the bonfire, where the rest of his companions were still making merry. The glow took a carnivalian turn, glaring and obscene. He couldn’t go back there. He turned toward the water, and walked in the moonlight to the shore. In that place where surf met sand, he lay down. 

The aftereffects of the drug made the sky swirl as he looked up at it. Briefly, he wondered if Van Gogh had been using when he painted Starry, Starry Night. He concentrated on the patterns the lights made, trying to make sense out of the chaos, both in front of him and inside him.

Orlando didn’t love that girl. He didn’t love Elijah. Maybe he didn’t love anybody. Elijah digested that thought slowly, the concept completely foreign to a boy who loved often and openly. 

He lay there, looking at the stars, letting the warm tide wash up and over him, and wondered how one goes about falling out of love.

_**We've taken, medication  
So we can run away from  
The things that pain us, the pain.** _


End file.
